In This Twilight
by Hoperise
Summary: Kidnapped, dehydrated, and adrift on the open sea, Amita faces questions of identity and significance. Sailing into the sunset is supposed to be romantic, not life-threatening. Set in Season 4. One-shot, character study on Amita.


**NUMB3RS: 1N TH1S TW1L1GHT**

**Setting: Season 4  
Genre: Drama, Romance  
Summary: Set in Season 4. Character study on Amita. Kidnapped, dehydrated, and adrift on the open sea, Amita faces questions of identity and significance. Sailing into the sunset is supposed to be romantic, not life-threatening.**

* * *

_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out._

_You left me in the dark._

_No dawn, no day;_

_I'm always in this twilight._

_In the shadow of your heart…_

* * *

The evening sky was ablaze with colours, the rays of the dying sun painting scattered clouds shades of molten gold and ferocious pink. The ocean was still beyond stillness, reflecting as a mirror the visual symphony.

No, not a mirror. She was muddling her metaphors. If the sky were a symphony, the water was an echo, a refrain, a tribute to the beauty above.

Amita blinked slowly, intentionally, trying to prevent the drying blood from gluing her eyelashes together. It was hard to think clearly when the gentle rise and fall of the boat kept provoking the tide of nausea in her stomach.

Wasn't sailing off into the sunset supposed to romantic?

Amita blinked.

Dark now. The sky was swimming with stars, more than the she had seen since the last she'd been to the Griffith Observatory.

The shore had disappeared from sight, swallowed by endless blackness. Pinpricks of light from celestial bodies billions of light years away whispered their silent encouragement. 'Hold on, hold on. Help is on the way.'

She would have smiled if the duct tape hadn't stuck her face in perpetual grimace. Her head weighed a million pounds and a gargantuan weight pressed against her chest, making it impossible to take a deep breath.

She was going nowhere.

Laying on her good side with hands bound behind her back, Amita lost herself among the stars. She wrapped herself in a robe of stardust and danced amongst nebulae. For a moment she caught a glimpse of a blink-blink of a satellite and imagined passing Larry on the International Space Station. Or was he on the ground again?

Had they forgotten her like she had forgotten him?

Salt water dripped unbidden from her eyes.

No, that wasn't right. She had to conserve water. Her captor wasn't exactly forthcoming with sustenance at this point.

Then again, he wasn't exactly in great shape, either. His last words to her before cold steel connected with her forehead were vague and threatening. The thought of being alone with him was terrifying – she knew from the growing shadow in Charlie's warm brown eyes what men like him did to girls like her. Even unbound, she couldn't exactly fight him off with only one functioning arm.

But she hadn't seen him since sometime after waking on the boat and sometime before the last sunrise-sunset-symphony. As it turned out, gunshot wounds to the leg were a lot more threatening than they seemed on TV.

She was so thirsty.

If her captor were dead, Amita was her own best shot at rescue. She had to escape. She had to get free and back to shore.

In a moment her grim theory was proved false. Manic eyes came into view and she felt hot breath on her neck, every alarm bell she possessed screaming 'Danger!'

His voice echoed in her terror-struck mind. _"They're never going to find you. They'll scrape the bottom of the desert before they think to turn south."_

Heart pounding, Amita recoiled and drove her heels against the fiberglass, pushing back until her dislocated shoulder jarred against the side of the boat. Her vision whitened.

The scent of decay pressed against her nostrils and she gasped for breath. His gravelly voice pierced her through with accusatory statements. _"What's one scared little girl worth to the FBI? Your boyfriend left. You are alone. No one cares about you. You are forgotten, and no one will find your body."_

And he disappeared into the wind just as suddenly as he came, leaving Amita bewildered. The stars swirled above her.

She blinked.

Rain pattered against her skin, like so many tiny fingers tapping her gently.

Wake up, wake up.

It's not safe to sleep.

She moaned beneath the duct tape, attempting to sink back into the darkness. The smell had worsened, invading through her nose and clenching tight around her throat. Dormant nausea grumbled to life once more and Amita was struck with the vivid thought that she easily could choke to death on her own vomit.

Heart fluttering in her chest, she struggled to sit up and began rubbing her face against the side of the boat. The corner of the tape caught against the metal and bit by bit, the gag pulled away. As soon as her mouth was free, she took a deep, shuddering breath through her mouth.

Then she slumped over the starboard hull and threw up.

Charlie hadn't meant to leave. He hadn't meant to miss their anniversary dinner. It was this case – Don always got so wound up when they were dealing with cop-killers, and when Don was worried, Charlie was worried. He immersed himself in the numbers, searching for a way to find the man who had left a trail of dead from Santa Monica to San Clemente.

No one expected that he'd had a partner.

She coughed and spat up the last traces of bile, sliding back to the refreshing coolness of the deck. Now, to find something sharp to break her bonds. But this boat was all curves and angles, not the rusted skiff she'd expected. She tilted her head back and licked cracked and bleeding lips, seeking some form of moisture. Dizzy from the sudden fall in blood pressure, she sat down to think and her eyes slid shut.

She drifted…

She was the ocean, she was the sky. She was the rain that connected cloud and sea. She was the breeze that pushed the ship farther from land, the current that moved beneath and churned the secret depths.

She soared over the Pacific and passed through cloudbanks over Chennai, flying across the plains of Tamil Nadu and into the mountains of Kerala. Guided by her grandmother's whispers, she wound her way through perfectly even rows of tea plantations that stretched on as far as the eye could see. On chilly mornings, the mist blended with the natural scents of the plants until the entire region smelled of fresh-brewed Masala chai.

Entranced by the wildness and mystery, Amita descended, but her bare feet found no purchase on the ground. Where did she belong, strung between two continents; between a world of ancient culture and tradition and the ever-shifting world of science and technology?

If she died out here, she would make a footnote in the case file as an 'also-dead.' Also dead: young female professor from CalSci. Charlie would be upset, but he was young, and he forgot about others so effortlessly when the numbers called for him. Would it be that simple for him to forget her if she was never found?

She drifted, the currents pulling her into the black.

_You are alone._

Dimly, some part of her brain knew that she was ignoring the larger danger. But at this point, she had nothing left with which to fight.

_You are forgotten._

It was so easy, so easy to slip away…

_No one will find your body._

The next time she awakened, it was to chaos and noise. The thwok-thwok of a chopper overhead. The thrum of approaching engines. Voices raised in alarm. The sun glared overhead, a brightness she could not escape behind her eyelids. Heat radiated from the deck, yet Amita's body was wracked with tremors.

The deck swayed violently with the sudden rush of additional passengers. She knew nothing but the disorienting motion, but her stomach was, mercifully, empty. She coughed instead, the movement sending lancing bolts of pain through her shoulder and split her parched lips once more.

Then she was lifted. A violent motion beside her and her arms were finally free. A wave of pain crashed over her and she opened her mouth to scream, but she didn't have enough energy to take in the breath necessary.

Too much, it was all too much. She felt arms around her and she turned to bury her head in something that smelled very familiar.

"Charlie." Amita rasped, cracking open her eyes to gaze up at him. By design or by accident, he was blocking the blinding rays of the sun, face pale but gloriously relieved.

He was saying something – she felt the words welling up from within and vibrating through his chest. But she couldn't comprehend.

A moment later, armed agents confirmed her suspicions: her captor had been dead for a while now. He'd locked himself in the boathouse and bled out.

Turning her head as they brought out the body, Amita was gripped with a sudden desperation. She had to _understand_.

"Didn't know if you were coming. Thought you'd forget." Amita managed, breathing in his scent and praying that it would wash away the ever-present decay that seemed to burn a hole through her.

His eyes watered and he pulled her closer. "Of course I came. I'll always come for you."

She looked up and saw reflections of light sparkling in the moisture of his eyes, swimming like the stars she had danced among. She saw in his eyes the universe and felt so small, so frail in comparison

"Tell me you care. I need to know." Am I enough? Am I worth dropping everything to chase after?

Moisture on her face that fell from his. Gently, firmly, he pulled her closer until she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. It was strong and steady, unlike her rapid pulse. "I care. I care. Amita, I could never forget about you. I love you." You are enough. Please don't leave me.

She melted against his chest.

Amita was adrift on the open sea, suspended between two worlds.

But she had found her anchor once more.

* * *

_I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map_

_And knew somehow that I could find my way back._

_Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too._

_So I stayed in the darkness with you._

* * *

Lyrics: "Cosmic Love," Florence + The Machine. For best results, find the Seven Lions Remix. Lather, rinse, repeat.

**Don't write the story. Live the story.**


End file.
